The Bridge
by cherrywood3
Summary: Post 4x06 with a focus on Elena's journey as an immortal. Damon is somewhat of a key player in that journey.
1. Part 1

It's 4AM and I'm starving. I sit up in bed. The back of my mouth salivates and I feel a phantom of that warm, salty, metallic taste.

No blood bags. No animals. I'm in trouble. I look at my phone, ready to dial for help. Stefan's out of the question. Damon. Caroline.

I ball up my fists. I need to do this, and I need to do it by myself. I change into some jeans, a hoodie, and creep out of the house quietly.

I start walking towards the center of town. I could lie in the middle of the road and pull a Damon. Ugh, pass. He can be such a creep sometimes. The corners of my mouth curve up a little bit.

There's a bus stop ahead, and there's a group of 5am shifters starting to gather. Hmm. Can't do crowds. There's a 7/11 across the street, and there's a man who's dressed like a plumber or a janitor walking in. Not too tall. That should do it.

The irony isn't lost on me. Aren't the men usually the predators? Shouldn't I, an 18 year old girl, be nervous about walking around by myself when it's still dark out? Every piece of advice I've ever received from my mother, from Jenna, from girlfriends comes back - don't accept drinks from strangers. Use the buddy system. Walk confidently. Keep your cellphone close. Be safe. Be careful.

But now- I'm the one they have to be afraid of. I walk a little taller.

I follow the man in and corner him as he fills up on $1 coffee.

"You need to use the bathroom." He looks blankly at me and starts walking to the back. I follow him in.

Men's bathrooms are disgusting. Whatever. I'm hungry. There's a pit in my stomach, but that's unrelated to my hunger.

"Don't move. Relax. This won't hurt."

I grab his service uniform, lean towards his neck, and bite. He's got a little scruff but I forget about it completely when I get a steady stream coursing in to the back of my throat.

Just for a moment I observe myself- I'm sucking on someone's neck in a gas station bathroom.

I'm done. I leave him standing there as I wipe up with coarse paper towels. I'll be good for the rest of the day. I put my hand on the door to leave and turn around.

"You won't remember what happened here." Something else. Something good. "Get home early to your family tonight."

I walk home with mixed feelings.

I'm still going to school, despite it all. Avoiding Rebekah has been easy, since her thing for Matt has been informing her actions lately, and harassing me doesn't endear her to him.

Mike Hanulick, third row, second from the wall, is tapping his pencil against his notebook. Amy Hernandez, two desks behind me, is texting beneath her desk. Shivani Silva, front left corner, is playing a game on her graphing calculator. I wonder if any vampires work for the CIA.

I do my best to turn it off, clear my mind, and suddenly, it's just silence. I look up at the board. We're transforming the graph. E power. Plus two. Shift left. One third of the input. Flatten it out. I see the graph before it's drawn.

What happens when there's a third dimension? Length. Width. Height. I imagine a cube. Z axis, straight up. Perfect squares, three variables - that makes spheres. I can see waves, folds.

I blink. Jesus. I didn't used to get math. I was passable, a good student, even, but not like this.

The sounds of the classroom zip back in, and I've lost my perfect clarity.

The fact that I'm going to live forever, barring unforeseen circumstances, creeps its way into my mind as I'm driving home with Jeremy. He's distracted, studying his hunter's mark, so he doesn't see me tear up.

Forever? Everyone - well, almost everyone I know - will die, and I'll be left alone. Jeremy will age and die when he's old. All my classmates will get to grow up, get married, have kids, have office drama, and eventually, when things have run their course, they'll get to die. I'll be the only one left, remembering them.

I feel myself approaching nihilism. Things matter. Some things matter. Like family- I glance sideways at Jeremy. And love. But what happens when they're gone? Jeremy will die. And love...love is fleeting, right? Carnal. We change, it fades. I think about my relationship with Stefan and I'm almost a little embarrassed. Forever. Please.

I turn up the radio, sing a little, and drive us home.

"Want to stop for some frozen yogurt?"

He startles me, but I smile. "Yeah, I think I do."

After staring at my books and binders for a good couple minutes, and considering whether homework matters in the scope of things, I do a little bit of homework. I flip to the back of my math textbook to see if there's anything about multiple variables. There is - elementary graphing - and there they are, the shapes I imagined.

Hmmm. I take out my cellphone. I could ask Caroline. But I could use a good excuse to talk to Damon.

_Hey - weird question. When you became a vampire, did you get better at math?_

I've barely put my phone down before it buzzes.

_Is this a hopeful question? Are you failing?_

I roll my eyes.

_Ha. Ha. I'm not failing. I just had a moment of clarity in math class and it was different._

Buzz.

_If you're focusing completely on one thing...yeah. That's what happens._

I appreciate the fact that he texts in complete sentences. The phone buzzes.

_What are you doing right now?_

I lay my forehead on the table with all my books. Oh man. Here we go. It's only been a couple days since I broke up with Stefan. I've been in somewhat of a mental recovery. I could use, ironically, a timeout, but I can't take it with Damon, because that wouldn't be a timeout, since he's somewhat of a central issue.

Forever - I'm going to live forever. The realization washes over me, again, unexpected, uninvited, and I want to cry. The abyss in my mind opens up, and I feel myself falling. Nothing matters, nothing matters, not when you live forever. I was ready to die a few weeks ago. I felt that I was old, that I was tired, that Ric would take care of Jeremy and I could finally have some peace.

Buzz.

_You there? Or ignoring me?_

I can't deal with this right now.

"Jeremy! I'm going out for a bit! Need anything?"

"I'm good, thanks!"

I head out without a plan.

I fold my arms and start charging through the neighborhood. I'm not stewing so much as I have a lot of energy and I can't name what I'm feeling. I'm despairing - I'm immortal. I'm angry - I'm immortal. I'm scared - I'm immortal.

People think they want to live forever. You don't. It's not supposed to be this way. There is a canon of human experiences, and they are enough. They are right. You are supposed to be young and bright-eyed, you mature, you raise a family, you get an office job pushing paper around, shit happens, you deal with it, you have your family and friends, and eventually, when you're old and you've enjoyed your life, you die.

Eternity is heavy. I don't get to be a part of that canon. I'm stuck, forever.

I walk and walk and walk. And of course, I find myself at Wickery Bridge. Jesus christ. I see Damon, just a few days ago, holding out a hand to me, eyes wide. I see Rebekah, cold, hurt, unmoving. I look over the edge.

They've removed the car. I wonder what it's like to be dead. But then I remember - I've died. Twice, technically. And I don't remember a damn thing.

I can't do this. I'm a vampire, but I'm still just 18. I can't throw in the towel this early.

There's nobody around, so I strip to my underwear and bra, pile my clothes under a bush, and jump, feet first, into the river off the bridge.

It's freezing cold, but it's a welcome thrill, a rush of life. I can hold my breath for a really long time underwater. I dolphin-kick and come face to face with some curious, pouty fish. Do they wonder about life and death?

Unlikely. I surface and float, looking up at the sky.

I see someone out of the corner of my eye. Of course. He's sitting next to my pile of clothes. No need to ask how he found me, my psyche is somewhat predictable these days. I'm trying to decide how much I care that I'm in my bra and underwear. Not that much.

I hop out of the river and feel my toes squelch in the mud.

"Existential crisis?" He gestures to the bridge.

"Something like that." I start putting my clothes on. Uncomfortable, but I'm not going to hang out like this.

"I like the way you crisis." He looks admiringly at me. I roll my eyes and hide my blush.

"Seriously though," he pats the grass next to him, "do you want to talk about it?"

I want to handle this myself. Everybody else does. I sit down.

"I just-" I break off and just stare across the other side of the river.

"Eternity. People will die around you. Nothing matters." He ticks them off on his fingers.

I turn to look at him and nod. The tears are pooling in my eyes.

"I don't want to cry anymore. I'm done crying."

"But you should." He leans in to me. "You know why? Because it sucks."

I laugh through a sob.

"If you want to cry, I won't tell anyone." I do and I don't. I'm sniffling and as I look at him, I feel myself calming down.

"No. No, I'm not crying." I scooch closer and rest my head on his shoulder. I feel him turn his head and very gently press his lips to my hair. I'm overwhelmed with gratitude, and I want to hug him, hold him, take his hands, kiss his face, but I can't bring myself to break the wall yet.

I'm sure Stefan told him we broke up. I'm sure Stefan even told him why. And after being so patient with me, he deserves something from me. Anything. But I need a second. A timeout.

Well, why shouldn't I have a time-out with Damon? I consider. Yeah, why shouldn't I?

I chew my lip for a second and remove my head from his shoulder. "How do you feel about a time-out?"

He raises his eyebrows. "I'm intrigued."

I cock my head. "But?"

He shakes his head and makes a face. "You smell like a river right now."

"Well, then, I will change into time-out worthy attire."

"Okay. On that condition. Want a ride? Or do you want to be the weird girl who walks into town looking like she just had a date with the Swamp Thing?"

"I'll take the ride, and for your information, the Swamp Thing was a perfect gentleman. More than i can say for you," I retort, but I'm smiling. He removes his leather jacket and throws it around my shoulders.


	2. Part 2

_Thanks again for the kind words. Enjoy Elena's journey, as it should be._

A few hours later we're on the road, and the sun is starting to set. I no longer smell like a river. I send a text to Jeremy - _There's some of mom's casserole in the fridge. I'm taking tonight off, maybe tomorrow too. Be safe. _- Sweet, strong Jeremy. I'm so proud of him. - _I love you_ 3 - I'm not above emoticons.

I lean up against the window and ride my hand in the air. I have no idea where we're going, and it really doesn't matter.

But, I am starting to get hungry again. I look at Damon, and he's flipping through radio channels, rolling his eyes at the religious channels and making a face at the country stations.

"Did you bring any blood bags?" Maybe they'll stay down this time. I did feed this morning.

"Yeah, they're in the cooler in the back." He's slightly surprised. "Have you been able to keep them down?"

"I haven't tried since the memorial. But I fed this morning...so maybe now it will work." I twist between our seats and take one out. He pulls over in the middle of the highway.

"Just in case," he says cautiously. I nod, tear the bag open, and take a sip. It's like drinking flat soda- but it's not toxic anymore. I finish the whole thing, and we're back on the road in minutes.

"So, where are we going for this timeout?"

"One-street town. Mostly crappy, but there's a really old bar, a decent diner, and an elegant motel known as the Kuntry Korner - that's spelled with Ks."

"You take me to the nicest places."

"You're fond of motels."

I narrow my eyes. You think you're clever. But I can't stop the blush rising from my collarbone, remembering our last encounter at a motel. I remember everything.

It's actually not bad. We drop our things (There are two queen beds in the room. What does it mean? Does it mean anything? Don't most motels have two anyways?) and head to the bar, which is as old Damon claimed it was - one of the first to open post-Prohibition era. He swipes a bottle of bourbon, two glasses, and we head outside to a back porch. The cicadas are in full chorus and it's a moist, swampy evening. I can feel the sweat rise and coat my skin.

He pours each of us a glass. "So. Do we discuss your existential crisis on this timeout? Because I'm interested especially in the part where you strip down to your underwear."

"Hah. You're a dog."

"You love it."

I kind of do. "Yeah, we can discuss my crisis."

He takes a swig of his bourbon. "It's normal. Immortality is not normal, so your reaction to it- quite normal."

"Did you go through this?"

"Present tense. Going through this."

It never goes away? My heart sinks. I can't live like this. I stare down at my bourbon.

"But some things stay the same. Family, whoever they are at the moment. Love."

"How do you feel about death?" I'm feeling more naked than i did earlier today, by the river.

His voice drops. "Some days I want to take off my ring and be done."

I feel my nerves freeze over. He continues, gently. "I used to read a lot about immortal beings, other than vampires. Many of them were cursed with wanting death but unable to die."

This isn't going the way I wanted it to. I'm starting to feel angry, and I grit my teeth. "Aren't you supposed to be giving me some answers?"

"I'm not that guy, Elena."

"Well try. This isn't making me feel any better, at all."

"It's not supposed to. It's just the truth."

I'm silent and staring at my bourbon again. "The truth sucks."

He nods.

"Are most vampires alcoholics?"

"Actually, yes. I'm not as depraved as you would assume."

"I don't think you're depraved." I bared some of my feelings. Now I want him to spill.

"Okay, I have questions. Ready?"

He opens his hands off his glass and replies gamely, "Shoot."

"Honestly- do you feel gross when you feed on people? I feel like a freak."

"Well, it's changed over time. At first I was in a panic at what was going on and felt like a freak. Then, as my life became an unending search for that bitch Katherine, I pretty much hated everyone and everything, and I was ready to take it out. I still do take it out on regular people."

"Do you actually feel your age? Like, do you feel like you're over a hundred and fifty?"

"Do I look it?" He waggles his eyebrows. I laugh.

"It depends. Most of the time, i feel like most people do, still trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to be doing with my life. Searching for Katherine, that at least gave me a purpose, and time flew. Things have slowed down since that chapter closed."

Since me, I flatter myself. I've run out of questions.

"Hey," he leans forward, "I'm not taking my ring off anytime soon. I've still got some things to live for. The question is, do you?" He leans back into his chair and waits for me.

I clutch my glass of bourbon and crack my knuckles around it. I'm not so sure I'm really ready to answer this question.

"Well, I really love frozen yogurt."

"Hey, that's something."

"It doesn't taste the same anymore, but I do like the consistency. Also, I have never been to Europe. Or Asia."

"Definitely." He's grinning.

"I have a really long book list, too."

"Well, then it looks like you're good for now."

As we settle back into our chairs, we hear a commotion near the front of the bar. People start pouring through the doors and they're laughing, shouting, and throwing rice. It's a wedding. The couple bursts through the crowd and heads for the teeny tiny dance floor.

I'm awash with jealousy, and I feel myself despising them and their happiness.

"Hey." He's standing next to me, looking down, and offering a hand. "We can dance too, you know."

Yes, I guess we can. I take his hand and stand up. The man does know how to dance, and he doesn't disappoint. I'm invited to dance by one of the groomsmen and I accept, raising my eyebrows at Damon, who winks, and grabs a bridesmaid. I dance with an older gentleman, who is actually better than Damon, and then I spot Damon with an eleven-year-old girl standing on his feet, who looks thrilled that she's allowed to be at such a grown-up party. I figure it's my turn to make someone's night and I ask a gawky teenage boy who's probably fourteen, and I have to compel him not to follow me around for the rest of the night. Nobody cares that we're not with the wedding party.

I pop over breathlessly to the bar and order a beer. He joins me.

I take a swig and turn to him. "I'm having fun," I declare, surprised at myself.

"That's more like it. Come on, we're doing the cotton eyed joe. My specialty."

"I'm surprised you haven't led us all in the electric slide yet."

"Do you think I should?"

"No. You get enough attention as it is."

"Fine! Fine." He's not mad at all.

It's a country bar, so we only have until midnight. It's ten til and we're standing close, in the middle of the floor swaying back and forth, my head tucked under him looking out towards his shoulder. It's a nice, strong shoulder. I feel myself clutching his shirt.

"One day, I'm going to see you wear something other than black."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Like blue, or green."

"Well, one day, I'm going to see you naked. Oh wait, already did that!"

I pull away and face him, scoffing. "I wasn't naked, I still had my bra and underwear! It was like a bathing suit."

"True enough, though I've never seen lacy swimsuits."

"Are you always on?"

"Honestly? Yes."

I can't help laughing and I settle back in, close to his chest, this time tucking my face into his neck. I reach up with one hand and trace his jaw, the veins on his neck. I move to my tip-toes and very quickly kiss his neck, below his jaw, and hastily duck my head so I don't have to face him.

"Hmmmm." I hear it somewhere in his chest, and I feel his hand squeeze mine a little forcefully.

We close out the bar, and then we start walking home.


	3. Part 3

It is indeed a one street town. Like most small towns these days, mom and pop shops look extra dilapidated or are already shuttered closed, abandoned. We walk in silence along the main road through town. It's dark and it would be completely silent were it not for the cicadas. I close my eyes briefly and imagine myself in the rainforest Is it also this loud?

"This is a great place to dump a body." He looks at me with big eyes, convinced he's hilarious.

"Yeah, it is. The best part, nobody would ever suspect a girl like me."

"You would never." I wouldn't.

"Maybe I'll be an avenger vampire. I'll start with smart-asses."

He holds a hand up to his heart, and mouths an offended "me?!"

I nod, hands on my hips. "You heard right."

He blurs up to stand in front of me. "You'll have to catch me. Tag- You're it."

He zips across the empty street and I give chase. To the water tower- I chase, laughing. To the front porch of a store, behind a gas station, between some cars, and I've barely gotten a hand on him.

Something rises inside me, and I stop laughing. "Hey-Damon! Hey!" I'm still chasing him, and he's on top of a van. Why isn't he stopping?

"Damon?" I'm having some kind of panic attack. "Damon!" I feel a sob rise and I'm about to cry.

Suddenly he's in front of me with his hands on my arms. "Hey! What's wrong?"

I feel like an idiot. "I-I...I don't know." He's searching my face, taken aback by my change in mood.

"Hold me?" He wraps his arms around me and I work on catching my sobs as he talks me down, stroking my hair.

"I'm here, I'm here. Relax. It was just a game."

He's so patient with me. So, so patient.

"Hey." He nudges me. "Ice cream?"

There's a Dairy Queen open, glowing fluorescently in the night.

"Sure." Wild night, I think to myself. Ice cream after midnight!

I order two scoops of chocolate with chocolate sauce and chocolate sprinkles. He snickers.

"This is how I crisis," I say primly. He gets vanilla with some walnuts.

"At least I'm not boring.," I add, looking significantly at his selection.

"I am not. I'm the eternal mysterious bad boy. I can brood with the best of them."

I laugh. "You're a softie. I know you're all mush and feelings on the inside."

"Where you're concerned," he points a spoon at me, "maybe."

I move my chocolate around in my cup.

"So, you've known hundreds of women throughout your lifetime."

"Thousands actually." I roll my eyes.

"Right. Thanks for that."

"You're welcome," he grins.

"Anyways. These thousands of women. I'm sure there were many beautiful, smart, cool women that you've ...whatever."

He says nothing.

"Well, why me?" We are sitting on a bench outside the dairy queen, completely alone. The heat is rising up my back and starting to creep up my neck.

He sets his ice cream down next to him and looks out into the night.

"Having someone believe in you is a really powerful thing," he says slowly, "and that may not make sense to you because you have always been surrounded by people who believe in you. I haven't had that for a very long time."

"But you've said you don't like living up to people's expectations."

"And that's true. I don't like to. But sometimes I find myself doing it anyways. Gives me something to live for, I guess."

"Okay."

He laughs incredulously. "That's it? 'Okay'?"

I shrug, laughing. "You answered my question!"

"And I'm out here by myself, emotionally exposed. You're brutal, Gilbert."

I laugh and suck on my plastic spoon, blushing.

"I think you have ice cream on your face," I say.

"Are you serious right now?" I smirk and tap my spoon on his cheek. I lean forward and kiss him there, lingering for a moment.

I pull back and he's giving me that look. I'm braver this time and I tap his lips. I go for it and he grabs for me, swinging my legs over his lap and pulling me close. He threads his hand through my hair and I'm pushing my hands through the hair at the nape of his neck. Our kiss is close to frantic but not quite. He moves to my neck, the plane of my collarbone and I feel selfish but it feels good. So, so good.

I pull away. "I'm ready to go to the Kuntry Korner. With two Ks."

He laughs, breathless. "Yeah, with two Ks. Me too. Let's go." He looks sideways at me. "Let's race. You get a head start. I'll chase you," he winks, "it feels appropriate."

I blush guiltily. "Fine." I kiss him hard. "You better hurry."

It takes us less than a few minutes- it's a really small town, after all. I'm hanging all over him as he looks for the key card in his pants pockets, kissing his neck and taking a light bite of his ear.

"Jesus, woman, let me get us into the room!" I giggle and jump, wrapping my legs around his waist. I'm a barnacle. He opens the door.

"I'm a barnacle," I announce between kisses.

"More like a monkey. Why are your legs so long!?" He reaches down and squeezes my thighs.

"You like it," I whisper, and he grins. It's so good to see him happy...really happy. And it's because of me. My confidence soars and I'm pouring all of myself into him. I love every little piece of him, with my hands, with my mouth, and I bring myself to slow things down right when we get to the brink, because I want it to last. When we look at each other, it feels like a discovery, and I trust him more than I already do, over and over again.

We finish, and welcome the quiet. I break it.

"I'm on top," I say significantly.

He lets out a laugh and closes his eyes. "Yeah, I guess you are."

"I feel really good."

His eyes flip back open. "Come here."

He pulls me down next to him and leans his forehead on mine, taking my hand and bringing it up to his chest. I feel my instincts kicking in and, of course, I want to talk. I figure my window of opportunity is about twenty minutes before he falls asleep. He's a man, after all.

To my surprise, he starts talking.

"Elena." I love hearing him say my name. "I meant what I said about living up to other people's expectations. But I really might want to live up to yours. They may be the only ones I care about."

I stroke the side of his face. "Oh, honey. You do. You really do."

His eyes get dark. "Say that to me again. The first part."

"Honey," I say, smiling, and kiss him gently.

He clears his throat. "How's your crisis?"

Wow. I had forgotten I had one. "Right now, if I die tomorrow or live for five hundred years...I guess it doesn't really matter to me right now."

"Good," he closes his eyes, and pulls me close. "That's good."

And for now, it is good. I'm not afraid to fall asleep.

_The End_

_And that's all she/I wrote because love conquers all! Clearly, I like writing dialogue. This has held me over through the two-week break. Here's to seeing something good and yet angsty happen on Thursday! WOO!_


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